


A First

by runswithwolves (ConstantComment)



Series: 12 Days of Fanfic (2012) [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, New Year's Eve, Stakeout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantComment/pseuds/runswithwolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, I'm just--ya know--having a mid-life crisis. Because I keep thinking that I'm likely to die before I turn eighteen and I'll probably still be a virgin and even if I don't my life is pathetic because soon I'll be the only person at my school who still hasn't had their first kiss at the age of seveteen--"</p><p>Prompt: kissing in the Camaro (and getting caught?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fuzzytomato02 (on Livejournal)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fuzzytomato02+%28on+Livejournal%29).



It had to have been the knee jiggling--yeah, definitely the knee jiggling--that send Derek over the edge. If Stiles had any observational skills. Considering Derek had a death-grip on Stiles' knee cap like he could rip it out any second, Stiles was pretty sure he was right.

"Sorry, man," Stiles squeaked.

"Chill the fuck out," Derek growled with a quirk of his angry eyebrows of anger. "You've been fidgeting from the moment you opened the car door. If you can't handle waiting, then get out and go home."

Stiles waited until Derek's hand slipped away before taking a deep breath. "I just forgot my meds today," Stiles lied out of habit.

Derek nodded with a roll of his eyes, looking down the yellow-lit road at the Alpha pack's temporary digs. The other pack was squatting a house on the corner near the highway turnoff, and Derek had kidnapped him and made him sit for hours as if they were gathering important intel by sitting on butt-warmers in otherwise uncomfortable silence. It wasn't like Stiles had much better to do on New Year's Eve. His dad had taken duty because he'd probably given up on trying to spend time with his liar of a son, and Scott was begrudgingly visiting his dad in L.A.

"You wanted to contribute," Derek had said with a smile, sticking his head out of his window, the sound of some angry alt rock song haloing his words. Stiles had readily agreed, even if it wasn't the only reason he wanted to hop in a Camaro with a stupid-hot twenty something and drive fast.

Stiles coughed, tucking his hands under his ass to head off the inevitable finger tapping. "Can you smell lies, too?" he asked quietly.

Derek snorted. "No. I can smell that you took Adderol recently." Stiles looked over at Derek, biting his lip. If he could smell that, then... "I know what you're about to ask, and you don't want the answer," Derek sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"I wasn't going to ask that," Stiles said, rubbing his palms over his jeans and wishing he'd washed his hands twice more before leaving the house earlier. "Can you smell what I had for dinner?"

"I can smell what you spilled on your shirt," Derek said, and there was a quirk to his lips when he said that. He reached over and swiped a thumb over Stiles' collar, then at his sleeve where he may have wiped his mouth after drinking milk before heading out. Stiles watched, almost like his body wasn't his, when Derek tapped the spot on his thigh where he'd dropped mustard on his jeans that morning, making himself a sandwich for lunch.

"What else can you smell?"

"I can smell that you're nervous," Derek replied finally looking Stiles in the eye. "Or worried. They're really the same." Stiles looked anywhere but at Derek, who had an odd expression on his face. Almost like he was concerned. Weird.

"It's nothing."

"Not to you, clearly." Stiles looked back at Derek, who seemed to have forgotten that they were supposed to be glaring daggers into the Alpha pack's door. It was when Stiles felt the knee jiggle coming on again that he had to spit it out.

"So you know how it's New Year's? And I'm turning seventeen on the twenty-second?"

Derek cocked an eyebrow. He could seriously give entire soliloquys with those things.

"Well, I'm just--ya know--having a mid-life crisis. Because I keep thinking that I'm likely to die before I turn eighteen and I'll probably still be a virgin and even if I don't my life is pathetic because soon I'll be the only person at my school who still hasn't had their first kiss at the age of seveteen--"

"That's..." Derek shook his head incredulously. "That's a gross exaggeration."

"--and I'm just... very... pathetic," Stiles slowed to a stop, wiping his temple and looking out the window, giving in to the knee jiggle. "And I'm spending New Year's Eve with a guy who hates me because I don't have any other option other than jerking off under my desk for the third time today."

"I don't hate you," Derek huffed.

"Fine. A guy who dislikes me," Stiles corrected. "All the other stuff is true, though."

"I like you," Derek said determinedly. Stiles smiled, a little cracked at the edges. "I just didn't realize how neurotic you were."

"You have a hi-larious way of showing it," said Stiles, folding his arms and glaring at him. "Tell me what you like about me, then."

"You're smart, even when you're a dumbass. Funny, even if you're spastic."

"Thanks," Stiles said reluctantly. "Didn't know the sourwolf had a sense of humor that went beyond sass."

Derek went on as if Stiles hadn't spoken. "And you're loyal. You're strong and you'll do whatever it takes to keep your friends safe." Stiles watched him clasp his own fingers together, looking down at them like he was remembering something sad. It wasn't the sad part that was unique, but the vulnerability that Stiles caught in the clench of Derek's jaw. "You care about people, no matter who they are," Derek finished quietly, looking up at him.

Stiles didn't... really have anything to say to that.

"I'll be that person," Derek mumbled, eyes catching on Stiles' open mouth. "If you want." Stiles' stomach knotted up, even as he wondered what exactly Derek meant. "I think it should be someone who... cares about you. Your first."

Stiles stared at Derek. Derek Hale. Seriously.

"Okay."

Derek nodded. "You wanna wait for midnigh--

"No! No, that's cool. We can. Right now. If. Yeah."

Derek unbuckled his seatbelt, turning toward him, so Stiles followed suit, ignoring the rabbit-quick beat of his heart and the clamminess of his hands. He was turning toward Derek, staring at Derek's knee through his tight jeans when he felt a hand on his cheek.

"Oh, God," Stiles warbled out when Derek pulled him close, eyes hooded and looking very determinedly at Stiles' lips. "Wow."

"Shut up," he said, then he was kissing Stiles--kissing Stiles--lips closing over Stiles' bottom lip and then there was tongue and--

Stiles realized dazedly that he had a fistful of Derek's henley under his jacket, knuckles pressing against Derek's tight stomach, hot to the touch. Another hand--how many hands did this guy have, holy Jesus--grabbed at Stiles' waist and pulled him awkwardly over the parking break and slipped under his shirt to sweep soothingly over the small of Stiles' back, and Stiles was fucking putty in Derek Hale's hands.

"Mm," said Stiles, and Derek smirked a little into their kiss. "Sorry I'm so bad. God," Stiles mumbled when their lips parted.

Derek gave this comforting little growl of admonishment and leaned in again, only stopping to ask, "Okay?" as if Stiles was gonna be all like, "Naw man, I'm good."

After that, Stiles was lost in a sea of tongue and hands and the thrill of actually putting a hand on Derek's stomach under his shirt and the taste of coffee in Derek's mouth and oh God he was still kissing someone. A Derek Hale someone. A Derek Hale someone who was brushing a thumb over his cheek like he was something that was precious. It made Stiles' heart beat faster than the kissing did. Who knew he liked being treated all special?

Derek's hand was warm, curling around his nape as his mouth drifted to Stiles' neck, sucking a spot that gave Stiles goosebumps and a serious case of--

Derek growled again, pulling Stiles closer at his gasp of arousal. God he could probably bust a nut just from that and the possessive grip Derek had on his hip!

There was a loud knock on the driver-side window, and Stiles shot to the other side of the Camaro as Derek sheepishly rolled the window down for the grumpy old lady who was holding a dog leash in one hand and an angry fist in the other.

"This isn't make-out point," she said. "Go home or I'll call the police about indecent exposure!"

"No, that really won't be necessary!" Stiles squeaked while Derek gave the lady his most winningest smile and apologized, shifting the car into drive.

"Have a good night!" he said to the grumpy woman--who had a shih tzu for heaven's sake--and as they pulled to a stop at the next stop sign, he leaned over and nipped softly at Stiles' ear.

"Ngh," Stiles said eloquently. "What about the Alphas?"

"Wanna watch the ball drop at your house?" Derek said to the stop sign instead of answering him, leaning back in his seat like he hadn't just been kissing the hell out of his passenger. Stiles nodded, not even caring about the potential of that innueno and surrepticiously pressing a palm to the vee of his jeans, only glancing at the house in the side mirror before dedicating the rest of his time staring at Derek's stubble and-or the stoplights as they neared his house.

For some reason, Derek didn't complain about the resumed knee jiggling the whole ten minutes it took them to get home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [runswithwolves](http://runswithwolves.tumblr.com/post/73264305223) over on tumblr. Come say hi!


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